Dark Release

Slut. For two days she had been rolling the word around in her mouth like a hard candy. It was a word that had always made Natalie shudder, since she was a teenager. Back then, she had watched with fascination at those girls, girls at dances with their dark looks, who flashed their eyes, wore lipstick and left for somewhere outside before the dance was over. Or they would walk into the cafeteria, sullen, and sway slowly, their curves so pronounced, and without effort attract the glances of all the boys, good and bad. One of those girls could come in and pollinate an entire room, it seemed, moving from cluster to cluster of boys, spreading pheromones. Natalie would go back to class, carrying her books over her chest that she suddenly became so conscious of. In those days you always had to wear white for a tennis tournament, and she would check herself out in the mirror, her skirt shorter than anything those girls wore, but of course wearing something like that for tennis was different. Her jersey was tight over her full breasts. She knew her legs were fabulous. She wondered if dressed like that she had the same effect on boys as those girls did. Those sluts.

Slut: what propelled the word across her mind now was the image of the other night, when they had been with Debbie and pretty little sexy Lara. Lara doing everything Debbie said, describing herself as Debbie's slut, and proud of it. But Natalie's reaction now, as an honest 40 year old, was different from her reaction as an insecure teenager. Now there was almost admiration there.

"Are you standing in the middle of the room?" she said from behind the door.

"Yes." Pierre was mildly bewildered.

"Okay then."

Natalie appeared completely naked. Her hair was done very prettily, silky and shining. Pierre could smell her perfume. She placed one small foot in front of the other, then stopped in front of him, a couple of feet away. She looked both nervous and confident, as if she had made a decision that was firm in her mind, but didn't know how Pierre would react.

She dropped slowly to her knees. Then she spread them, so that her pussy was open as far as it could be while she was on her knees.

"I want you to make me your slut," she said. She blushed, glad it was out.

He looked down at her, grasping for words.

"I want to be your slut. I want you to use me however you want. I will do whatever you want, whatever fantasy you want to turn into reality, with whomever. I want to be your complete slut, to be used and fucked. However you want." She paused. "I won the bet. That's what I want."

It was a moment of incredible vulnerability, and Pierre's heart swelled with emotion. He stood there, open-mouthed, looking down at his naked wife, her chest rising and falling, her nipples hard. He reached down and pinched her nipple, twisting it, then stood up. She closed her eyes and whimpered. They had both read books, erotic stories, sex books, that talked about this fantasy.

He was thinking furiously. "What brought this on?"

"It was Lara," she explained. "Seeing her, how on fire she was, how free she was to do anything, her Mistress told her. Set me on fire. I want that freedom."

"Quite a responsibility," he said. Then he slowly smiled. "But one I am up to. Is this for one night, then?"

Natalie smiled slightly and lowered her eyes. "I don't think so. I'm planning on winning a lot more tennis games."

"My slut. My personal slut." He looked down at her. "Just trying it out."

"Slut." He looked down at her, her nipples hard, the aureoles crinkled. "Suck my cock."

She leaned forward, unzipped his tennis shorts, pulled them down along with his briefs, and slid her fingers up along his thighs, one hand cupping his balls and the other lifting his thickening cock toward her mouth. It was exquisite. She took him into her mouth before he was completely hard. He loved this sensation, of his cock growing in her mouth. He loved it when she rolled her tongue around the head of his cock, took his cock deep into her mouth so he could feel it at the back of her throat, or when she took it out of her mouth and flicked her tongue over the sensitive spot on the underside of the crown. Sometimes she would make him cum just by licking him there. He loved it best when he made him cum without stroking him with her hand. Now she was moving her mouth back and forth slowly along the length of his shaft, sucking and licking as she went. He felt the cum starting to compress in his balls. He spread his feet apart a little wider. His hands sank into her dark red hair, not to help him fuck her mouth, but because he liked the feel of her hair, liked the feel of how she was moving on his cock. It drove him wild. Soon, he could feel he was ready to cum. He started to shake. To shudder. Felt the surge of the explosion tighten all his muscles, getting ready to erupt.

The first hard spurt into her mouth. Then another. And another. Hot jets of white hot cum into her hot mouth.

She sucked him dry. Attentively and lovingly. Her tongue ran up and down his shaft, licking him perfectly clean. Then her hand went to her pussy, starting to finger herself.

"Stop that," Pierre said swiftly. "If you are going to be my slut, then you are going to have to cum when I tell you to." Then he leaned down and sank two fingers deep into her hot, wet cunt. "Unless, of course, you just can't control it."

She looked up, her hand frozen, realizing she had to do what he said. If she was to experience it fully. She pouted. "I don't know if I can."

She whimpered, and ground her pussy against his hand. Then he took it away. "Here, lick my fingers clean, my wanton girl."

She licked them clean.

"Why don't you get up now." He looked at his watch. "Manuel will be here soon. Go and get your robe, and we'll talk about your massage."

She looked up, her lips red and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes widened, as if she had forgotten the massage. He could smell the scent of her wet sex.

Yes, he thought. This was just right.

Fifteen minutes later, fresh from the shower, she appeared in her cotton robe.

He crooked his finger, beckoning her. When she stopped in front of him, he parted her robe, pressing her thighs apart, and then slid his fingers along her wet cuntlips. "You didn't cum in the shower, did you?"

She shook her head, the dark wavy curls settling on her shoulders. "I wanted to."

"Good. Because if I am correct, then soon you will be out of control, regardless of how hard you try. You saw how big a cock Manuel had, didn't you?"

She pursed her lips, remembering yesterday's massage. "Yes."

He kept moving his fingers over her labia slowly, spreading her wetness over the outer lips. "You find it easy to imagine that cock inside you, don't you?" He slid a finger slowly up her pussy, accompanied by her intake of breath.

"Yesssssss," she hissed, and bent at the waist slightly before straightening up.

"You felt his cock brush your hand yesterday, didn't you? You wanted to close your hand over it, pump it, close your lips over it and suck it, didn't you?" He slid his wet fingers up over her clit, circling it slowly.

"Oh god. Yesssss." She trembled at the touch of his fingers, at the image in her mind of Manuel's cock in her mouth.

He took his fingers away. "Yes, I thought so. You did a good job of sucking my cock, by the way." He sank his fingers into her hair, slowly grasping it tighter and tighter, slowly bending her head back and opening her robe, pinching her left nipple with his fingers. "So you want to be my slut."

"Yes. Oh yes. A naughty, wanton slut."

"The idea of surrendering yourself, of opening yourself up to be used, and tormented, and fucked as I see fit, that arouses you? The idea of knowing I that I know how you respond, what you like, what you crave, and that I am going to push you further and further, as far as your imagination can imagine: that arouses you? Does it, my lovely Natalie?"

Pierre slid his fingers back to her pussy, and, if possible, she was wetter.

"God yes," she said.

He pushed his fingers deeper inside her. "Good." He kept massaging, watching her lift onto her toes, whimpering. "Now I will tell you what you are to do this afternoon. He will be here in ten minutes or so. You will enjoy your massage, you will tease him a little, then tease him a lot, then take his cock out, and make sure he has a good hard orgasm. I want to see him cum hard, angel." He felt her cunt muscles clamp down on his fingers as he reached deeper and massaged her g-spot. Then he stopped, slipped her fingers out, and she whimpered in frustration.

"Of course, I expect he will make you cum, too. Let's see how you do."

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Natalie hung back, her cheeks flushed, licking her lips, thinking about her task, her pussy on fire. She wondered if she was dripping; she could certainly smell herself. Pierre's words echoed in her mind as she heard him greet Manuel at the door, pushing his massage table in. They spoke in Spanish, of which she didn't understand a word. Then she saw a $50 bill change hands. The fee, she presumed.

Manuel looked at her slowly, pushing the massage table ahead of him. He smiled wide, his teeth white against his swarthy face. She hopped up on the table without waiting for him to ask her; Pierre went over to his chair in the corner about ten feet away. He smiled at Manuel and nodded, then smiled at Natalie. Natalie undid the knot of her robe, then rolled over on her tummy. As she did so, she saw that Manuel's cock was already hard.

She felt his hands lift her robe up, then slowly tug it off her shoulders, applying just a little pressure to get her to lift up so he could remove it completely. She waited for him to cover her with the towel, but it didn't happen. So she was going to stay naked. A thrill pulsed through her. She felt his hand sliding gently up from her heel, over her calf and then her thigh, her buttock and up along her back to her shoulder, so warm. He pressed his crotch against the side of the table right in front of her eyes, turned to the right, and she swallowed – his cock was bulging, clearly outlined, not 12 inches from her eyes.

Then his hand over her back, wet with the mixture of oil and water, so warm, fingers kneading. Then down the small of her back, and quickly over her buttocks, down to her ankles. Slow circling of the base of her calves, fingers pressing then up her calves, slick and warm, the backs of her knees. She shivered, it was so sensitive there. Then up the backs of her thighs. She knew her cuntlips were swollen. They were swollen before she even lay down. She parted her legs a little. His fingers moved up the backs of her thighs to the base of her buttocks, kneading harder. Kneading her buttocks then. She felt his fingers reaching through her muscles, moving her inside. It was so erotic. Her body felt on fire.

He moved his hands down the backs of her thighs, and as he did so she felt something brush her hand at her side. She was sure it was his cock. She opened her hand a little more. His hands kneaded the oil into the muscles of her upper thighs now, his fingertips reaching around the inside of her thighs. She ached for him to touch her. She knew Pierre was watching, wanting to see her arousal. Then she felt it brush her hand again, this time not moving away, but staying for a few seconds, pressing into her fingers. She closed them slightly, and felt the long thickness of his shaft. He moved his fingers up over her buttocks, and then slid them down the crack of her ass. So sensitive there. Yes she was thinking, yes. Just touch my pussy. Just once, for now. Then I can hold off a little longer. But instead he moved to her shoulders. Took his cock out of her hand. It reappeared inches from her face again. She could see the length of it, clearly outlined. The bulging head, its helmet outlined, and the ridges and veins. She opened her lips and closed them.

"Could you turn over now?" he asked, and pressed her upper arm and hip with his two hands. Without hesitation, and with a heavy-lidded smile on her face, she rolled over. She was completely exposed now, and it excited her. She new her nipples were rock hard. She knew that the scent from her cunt would be unmistakeable. She placed her hands at her sides as he dipped his fingers into the bowl of oil and water and dripped it over her body. First her tummy, then her breasts, then down her thighs. She felt the trickles starting to move down her skin. Down her breasts, down the insides of her thighs. She smiled at him as he placed his hands on her shoulders, slowly massaging down her front. She squirmed just slightly, sinking herself into the deliciousness of giving herself to the moment, and the deeper delight of knowing Pierre was not more than 15 feet away, watching, his cock hard, almost willing her over the edge. Yessssss she felt, exulting in her freedom. Slut. I am allowed to feel these things. To cum when and how he decides. It was beautiful. It was what she was meant to be.

Pierre watched from fifteen feet away. Manuel was moving expertly. His hands had caressed all the important inches of her back and her buttocks and thighs. He had seen her unable to resist parting her legs a little. He could feel her urging Manuel to touch her, yes just touch her once right there, right along her swollen labia. But he didn't. Pierre smiled and applauded inside.

Now on her front he watched Manuel begin to knead her shoulders, then down her front, down to her ribcage, then the sides of her breasts, lifting them slightly, the nipples hard. Aching, he knew to be touched: pinched, pulled, bitten, twisted. He watched Manuel's hands move down her stomach now, her tummy rising and falling faster, doing all those internal flips, urging the fingers toward her cunt. Toward her slut cunt. He shifted in his chair and just let his own cock ache. Her skin glistened. He could see the rising and falling of her mound now. Yes, it was what he thought he saw: her open hand brushing against his thick, hard bulge, the back of her fingers just grazing the hard curve of his thick shaft.

Natalie knew her cunt was swollen, and wet, and dripping. She felt his hands now moving up her thighs, kneading in small circles closer and closer to her pussy, and she felt herself pushing down toward his fingers. Her mound on fire, her clit aching to be touched, aching. Closer and closer were his fingers. She shifted her legs open a little more. She wondered what he thought of her soft little tuft of hair, her silky bare pussy lips, pink and glistening. She pressed her fingers harder against his bulge, turned them and ran them along his shaft through his tight shorts, her fingertips tracing the length of it, to the soft, firm head. With her head turned, she saw his cock pointing at her, and yes, a small drop of wetness right through the very end. She scratched along it again, feeling him press now into her hand. God she wanted him to sink his fingers in her cunt. She pushed her mound up obviously. She smiled. What could be more wanton?

But he had other ideas. He left her thighs entirely, leaving the heated imprint of his fingers inches from her aching cunt. She groaned when she felt his hands moving up her belly now, and firmly, expertly lifting her breasts, spreading the oil around them. He sank his fingers into her firm, full breasts, pushing his fingertips into her nipples. The electric charge ran through her. It almost made her cum.

She lifted her hand and bent it back to run her fingers along his cock again, in his new position, at her shoulder, not inches from her face. She pressed her fingers harder against it. The hard long thick shaft. God it looked long. Thick. She slipped her fingers under the elastic at his waist, and pulled down. She had to see it. First the head emerged, thick and purple, shining. Gawd. As awkward as it was, she was able to tug his shorts down further. More of his shaft became visible, gradually, till all of it was there. Her eyes widened. It was lovely and thick and long, pointing straight out now, straight at her face. His fingers on her nipples now were driving her wild. She could feel the heat everywhere, even in her toes.

She had to have it in her mouth. She moved her head slightly forward, her tongue flicking it. Running her tongue over the shining, leaking head. She could feel him slowly pushing toward her, and she felt the thick heat enter her lips. Her tongue circled and circled it, she sucked, flicking along the sensitive underside. Her fingers cupped his balls now, tight and hard. He started moving slowly back and forth, and she felt the thick ridged member slide deeper into her mouth, her wanting mouth, her slut mouth, she said to herself. Then out. She closed her eyes, and pictured Pierre watching her do this, wanting to do it so well, so he would be proud of her, happy with her.

Manuel's cock left her mouth with a plop. She opened her eyes in shock. He moved his hands down her sides now, moving away, his cock out straight, thick and hard. He stood at her feet. Slowly he pulled her down the table. Yes, she thought, gawd yes. She felt her knees bending over the end of the table, then his hands sliding up her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. This time they didn't stop. She moaned as soon as his fingers touched her pussy. He began a slow, firm pussy massage, parting her lips, sliding them aside, running his fingertips through the wetness, careful not to touch her clit. She was screaming inside. Then he pulled her down further. She felt her ass on the edge of the table. God yes, she thought. She felt his thighs then moving up her spread thighs. She looked down. His cock was gliding along the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her skin was glistening with oil and need. He moved like a dancer, slowly, deliberately. She felt the tip of his cock now against her labia, then sliding up her slit. She wondered what its thickness would feel like inside her. She needed to know! But he teased her. Slid the tip up her slit, parting her pussy lips. She jerked as the tip touched her clit. He held his cock in his hand and circled her clit.

Gawd she was going to cum. She couldn't stop it. But he pulled back just as she was about to go over the edge. She bucked forward, trying to pull him back in, but his cock had moved down her slit, and she felt it at her pussyhole now. She felt the orgasm still hanging there. She might not be able to stop it anyway. She spread her legs wider now, unashamed, needy and wet. He pushed. She felt the first delirious inch enter her, then slowly deeper, and deeper, until it filled her entirely. He pulled out once, and she cried out, then he pushed back in. Two more strokes later, and she was over the edge, shaking and shuddering. She cried out, thrashing her head from side to side, the orgasm washing over her in strong waves, crashing against the shore. Her body went rigid, riding against him, and finally she slowed down, calming. Manuel stood between her legs, moving very little, slowly in and out still. Obviously he hadn't cum.

She could feel his thick hard cock inside her, unfamiliar and yet so good. She lifted her fingers and motioned him toward her. He pulled out of her cunt and moved beside her head. The thick cock glistened in front of her eyes. She could smell her own sex on him. Without hesitation she placed the fingers of her small, soft hand around his shaft and pulled him closer. She felt the thick heat again, slipped her tongue against his little hole, then circled his head again and again. She felt him pumping in slowly, and out. She bobbed her head slowly. She could feel the hardness of his vein underneath. How ready it was to spurt. She wanted to feel it, feel the hot white cum in her mouth, down her throat. She sucked, she flicked, she ran her tongue around his cock inside her mouth. Then she could feel it. He was on the edge. He was moving faster. She hummed, so he could feel the vibration on his cock. Then it started. The spasms moving up his cock like a ripple. Precum started streaming out, then the stronger spasms. She sucked, licked, feeling the hot spurts filling her mouth. She swallowed. He groaned and pushed, thrusting his cum into her.